Awakening
by ohcEEcho
Summary: As promised, five years down the line Mordred returns, but to what purpose? It soon becomes clear that all is not what it seems, and Merlin struggles to protect those he loves as the known world falls apart. SLASH.


**A/N: Well, this is my first foray into Merlin fanfiction, and pretty much my first stab at doing something dark, so please be kind. **

**Disclaimer: Merlin the TV series is the property of Auntie Beeb, the lucky old hag. The legend probably belongs to England, but I'll let the lawyers argue that one.**

**WARNING: This fic is slashy, mainly Merlin/Arthur and Mordred/Various. Not outright slash yet, mind you, but pretty damn slashy, and that means men with men, kiddies, so no likey no readey. I don't want any whining from pre-pubescent closed-minded juveniles, thankyouverymuch. **

**Summary: As promised, five years down the line Mordred returns, but to what purpose? Soon it becomes clear that all is not what it seems to be, and Merlin struggles to protect all that he loves as the known world falls apart. SLASH. **

Prologue

The last rays of the setting sun cast feeble dapple shade across his cheeks, the air recoiling around him as the last vestiges of warmth fled from the sky. Solstice came upon the world swiftly and mercilessly, the Old God gasping his last panting breath before being bonelessly submerged in the bitter cold of Winter. The dark haired young man languishing on a blanket of shriveling leaves breathed sharply in through his nose, relishing the bite of the fresh night air on his tongue. He supposed he should, like the others of his kind, grieve at the sudden sense of loss and emptiness in the world. But he did not. In fact, he rather relished it.

"Mordred?"

Grey eyes with pupils blacker than the raven's wing slid laboriously open, his gaze swiveling slowly until they rested upon the hooded figure perched patiently upon the edge of the clearing. A slow, mocking smile curled Mordred's frost-reddened lips, as he leant up on his left arm and regarded the figure with conceited disdain.

"Come." A pale hand, withered and calloused extended from the yawning sleeve of the druid's coarse robe "The time is upon us."

The young man's smirk widened, revealing the cruel glint of pearled teeth "Is that so, Gryah?" he paused, gaze boring into the elder man's face from behind a crudely cropped curtain of ebony hair "I must tell you, I am quite disinclined to suffer the _**Tintegran**_" the surreal intonations of the magical language was fouled as Mordred spat the word like a curse "again."

The barest of sighs emitted from the confines of the druid's hood "It is not torture, young one." He murmured, softly "It is _**Faroth.**_ A journey."

Mordred's eyes flashed darkly and he emitted a sudden bark of hollow laughter "A journey I do not require!" He leapt deftly to his feet with a creak of black leather and the rustle of emerald silks "Do you think I need _direction_, Gryah, my power such that it is? Do you think I need to be coddled like some wayward child?"

Like a wizened tree the druid could only weather the storm of his young fellow, waiting for his anger to dissipate before speaking "It is the ritual of our people." He inclined his head slightly "If you are to pass safely into adulthood, with the blessings of all the higher powers, it must be done."

Mordred brushed the fragments of painted leaves from his shoulders and glared at the elder with lidded eyes "Oh, very well, you pompous old fool." He strode imperiously to stand before the bent Gryah, straightening his spine with a crack of adolescent vertebrae and grinning at the old man's subsequent wince "Lead me to them."

They navigated the dusted forest paths in silence, Mordred becoming increasingly aggravated as he was forced to shorten his stride due to the elder's ambling gait. At fifteen years of age his body had lost the gangly proportions of a child, but an awkwardness to his lean limbs and slightly stretched looking skin gave him the appearance of a gaunt young man whose mind had not yet grown accustomed to the changes of his body. However, any impression that the observer perceived a boy was quickly lost when looking upon Mordred's face. His pale skin and noble features held a perverse handsomeness in them which was spoiled by the aura of embitterment he emitted, and the indefinable darkness which burned in his eyes.

Mordred came to an abrupt halt as they reached the edge of another clearing, much larger than the one they had left behind, and his eyes narrowed as his gaze swept across the encompassing circle of hooded torchbearers which bordered this sacred space. Protecting. Defending. But protecting what? Mordred from the forest, or the forest from Mordred?

The tallest of the hooded figures stepped reverently forward, his robes of silvered grey shimmering in the torchlight "Mordred, the gift our people had long awaited being given." His voice cut through the thin air like a knife, and the world quieted about him "How I have prayed for this day to come."

Mordred rolled his eyes and stalked into the centre of the circled vigil "Yes, yes." He said impatiently through gritted teeth, depositing himself unceremoniously upon a smoothed rock which sat beside a shallow table "Now get on with it, I don't have all day."

The High Druid nodded, reaching for a large, intricately carved wooden goblet which sat resplendent upon the table, and held it high.

"First, drink of the river's lifeblood, gladly given." He bowed to some unseen force and slowly turned, placing the cup gently in Mordred's reluctant hands. Mordred drank hastily, grimacing as the first whispers of magic began to seep into his body, cooing, sliding cool droplets over his skin.

"Second, eat of the bones of the woods, patiently received." Mordred was now obliged to chew the crushed leaves of some unsuspecting elder tree, and raised his eyebrows as he noted the oddly sweet taste of the powder.

"Third, glean the warmth of the exalted fire, boldly taken." The High Druid held out a burning orb of smugly crackling flames, and Mordred hesitated. He did not take well to fire magic. It seemed to…dislike him, for some reason. But the sooner he acknowledged the four Great Elements, the sooner this damned ritual would be over and the sooner he could find some poor virginal She-Druid to bed.

He clenched his jaw and passed his palm over the flames, once, twice, three times, and the heat of the fire hissed and lapped at his skin with ferocious vehemence. He grimaced as the searing magic burned in his veins, defiant, mocking. Finally, the orb was retrieved, and Mordred swayed in his makeshift seat as black spots filled his vision, struggling to focus on the small silver bowl which was emitting potent smoky vapours that was held beneath his nose.

"Last, breathe the essence of the most sacred air, our lifegiver."

He inhaled deeply, and the potency of the magic was like an electric shock. He felt a sudden jarring impact as he fell to his knees "Mordred, Son of the Woods:" the world tilted on its axis, his chest constricting as tendrils of the Old Magic, an eternal spectrum of a myriad of colours, scurried along the lines at his shoulder and pooled upon the mark on his chest "Your destiny is yours to behold."

Darkness. No…light!

_He recalls them with fumbling clarity, as he ventures deep into furthest boundaries of drug-ridden sleep. _

_He sees from afar the chaos of their tumbling fates, his spectral fingers ghosting across interwoven threads of silvery grey and purest bloody scarlet, wound together so tightly he can barely distinguish the one from the other. _

_Softly, coaxingly, his departed soul drifts languidly from the confines of his body, drawn to the cold realities of echoing stone, the creaking of chains, the groan of weary doors, like a monster restrained: Camelot. _

_He comes upon her first. Morgana. Cascades of her ebony hair flow across the clean expanse of linens, like ink on paper, covering the light in darkness. The vision lingers upon her troubled features and he remembers soft words and silken promises and the downy press of velvet against his cheek, and smiles without malice. A broken mirror dances in the fever of his memories. His lips linger against her brow and then she is gone. _

_He opens his eyes again and is assaulted with a barrage of scarlet and gold. Here the air shimmers with an ensconcing heat and a golden-haired figure lies sprawled like an Emperor in a sea of blood and gold. As he draws near he is satiated with a warmth so thick and sacredly putrid he drowns in it, gorging himself sick on this being whose very presence seeps like wine and honey into his bones. _

_A sudden surge of pain, and he remembers cold iron bars against his raw hands, the haloed face of an angel reaching, offering salvation, and the echoing, terrible weight of betrayal. Suddenly he is overcome by a hatred so rawly profound that the air itself stills and the earth shifts. _

_His lips curl as the very beat of his heart pumps loathing, his abhorrence slipping a cold caress across the vulnerable ivory tendons of the Prince's neck. The slumbering Pendragon shivers and winces at the touch, but does not wake, oblivious and blinded as he is to the benevolence and adoration he inspires. A sleep-befuddled hand rubs idly at the scorch of a fading mark which mars his skin like the unwritten bars of a melody, and somewhere far below him a young warlock senses his Prince's peril like a wound, and flinches awake: __**Arthur!**_

_Arthur; the name rolls off his tongue like a whisper and a sigh and a growl, and Mordred shudders in ecstasy as he feels the blossoming fear and panic of the warlock overwhelm his senses, coursing like liquid mercury through every fibre of his being. He is drunk on power and suddenly, he laughs. _

_Ah…yes. Merlin; Emrys. Soon. It shall be soon._

&&&

**A/N: All Pagan information, apart from the language of the druids which I stole from a Saxon website, comes from my less than extensive pot of knowledge. If anyone spotted any errors please let me know. Second chapter will be Merlin centric, if I get enough feedback saying that this should continue. If not, thanks for reading and please let me know what you thought!**


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